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12/06/2013

The 0.22 Megapixel Nikon D800E

The 0.22 Megapixel Nikon D800E

First, Kevin Raber is a terrific photographer and I really like his work — so no fair misinterpreting my comments here as anything against Kevin or his skills. I also really like this image from the Luminous-Landscape website — one of my favorite websites, by the way. We all owe a great debt to Michael Reichmann for all he (and Chris, and now Kevin) are contributing to the photographic community. So, I'm not sniping, really I'm not.

But, I do chuckle every time I see this kind of thing on the Internet. This really nice photograph is a whopping 0.22 megapixel image made with a 36 megapixel camera. By my math, that about 0.6% of the camera's capabilities. And it looks pretty good, wouldn't you agree? Should Raber want to (and he should!), he could make a huge print with this whopper of a camera. Good for him, and good for the camera.

My question is this: How many of today's photographers need to — let alone want to — make a stunning, tack sharp 24" or larger print? For those who do, it's a great thing that we have such cameras to work with. But I do worry about how long such behemoth prints are going to be an important part of photography. Right now, they are all the rage in galleries who sell art by the square inch. More and more, however, I find the people I see viewing photography on an iPad, a phone, or even on their HD TV at home using an simple slide show. And I'm not talking only family snapshots. Serious photographic artwork is being produced for the tablet world. I have often wondered if fine art photographers tend to ignore this because there isn't an easy path to monetize it. But, I digress.

Michael Reichmann touched on the edges of this recently in his report from PDN PhotoPlus 2013. Here's my spin on this same line of thinking that I first published years ago . . .

For all of us who are of a certain age and know what the term "N+1 development" means, we would often silently snicker at the foolish tourists who popped out of the cars at Wawona Point and snapped of a frame with their shiny new 35mm camera, thinking in their naiveté that they were making an image that would look just like Ansel Adams'. Ha! We would knowingly smile, content in the unshakable knowledge that our sweat-laden, fastidiously crafted sheet film-produced photograph would toast their grainy little machines. Give me a Red Dot Artar and I will rule the world! Bwa-ha-ha-ha.

Fast forward about 40 years to today. Out pops the tourist from their car who then carefully aims their iPad or smartphone at Yosemite Valley and snaps a digital image. I still want to snicker, but I'm not sure I have anything to snicker about anymore — especially if both theirs and our images are destined for viewing via iPad, computer monitor, or HD TV screen. Bluntly said, the basis of our feelings of superiority in our craft are entirely founded on the large print — a presentation medium that has the specter of anachronism hovering around it like vultures circling in the sky. We serious photographers use better, more expensive, "professional" cameras — sheet film antiques or gazillion-megapixel-cost-of-a-house type devices. Why? So we can make giant prints and hang them in galleries. (I've often chuckled at the double entendre of that phrase — are we displaying them, or choking them to death?)

Well, we are all photographers and intimately involved in the medium — so let me ask you, how many gigantic prints have seen today compared to images on a digital screen? This week? This month? I love prints. I adore them, I make them, I collect them, I treasure them — but compared to images on digital screens and what greets my eye every day, the count is paltry. The tide hasn't just turned; it has tilted the very axis of the planet.

Which brings me back to Kevin Raber's wonderful image. I'm delighted for him that he used a Nikon D800E to photograph this scene. That said, for me, had he used an iPad, my viewing experience would be no different. I am delighted to have the opportunity to see his image, even if it is only at 0.22 megapixels. I enjoyed the moment of viewing it. I'm glad that he took the effort to go there and make the image — and then share it will all of us. It just strikes me as odd that he could have accomplished that same outcome with a tool that didn't cost more than my first car.

Ah, but the prints! "Had he used an iPad, he couldn't make a giant print," you say. True. But, wouldn't it be interesting to know how many large scale prints Raber will make/sell from his trip with this camera? I'd bet megapixels of cash that it won't be a drop in the bucket compared to the number of people who just saw his print at 0.22 megapixels at Luminous Landscape and now here.

There is an economic component all of this that is troublesome, too. Has it occurred to you that a giant print in a photographic gallery costs about the same as the giant HD TV that could display it? If you were a consumer looking for the pleasure of seeing great images in your home — as opposed to a collector of investment quality prints — wouldn't it make sense that you might be tempted to buy the TV rather than the print and then have the ability to display thousands of images that fit your mood or the season? I'm not suggesting that those who love photographs might be tempted, but those who love images might be.

I'm not pleading any case here for any opinion or position. I'm just observing a few of the odd realities of life here in the digital age. It's certainly not my place (or anyone else's) to tell a photographer what he/she could/should use to make their photographs. I can't help but wonder, however, what the future of these great machines will be if the importance of giant prints ceases to command a place in our hearts. Michael Reichmann said it succinctly when he proposed that we consider the LP record, the VHS tape, the cassette — and possibly the DSLR. As more and more of photography is driven off the printed page, what does that portend for cameras, for prints, for galleries, for us? We'd best not ignore this — at our peril. I can't help but conclude that we are being pushed to one inevitable conclusion — content. King it is, and will be even more so in the future.

Comments

I question the logic of comparing how many small, on-screen images we see every day compared to how many large prints we view. For the most part, the images we see on screens are often representations, meant for sharing publicly, of what are destined to be much larger prints. The same can be said for images in magazines and books. Since I see more book/magazine images than I do prints, should I be expected to use those as a basis for technical parameters?

While we may not all make large prints (I limit my largest prints to 20"), it's nice to have some flexibility should we decide to go a different direction in the future. I mean, if someone offered me a a decent amount of money for a larger print, I would like to have the ability to comply.

Let us not forget, as well, that camera form-factor can play a large part in the gear we use. I use 35mm-style cameras because I like how they feel in my hands. After 25 years as a professional photographer, I have developed the muscle memory to allow me to use such cameras without thought or consideration. The same cannot be said for the smaller cameras that are becoming popular.

You and I are photographers, so of course we agree. But, does the public? For me, a print will always beat a screen if for no other reason than I appreciate the accomplishment. I'm not sure that applies outside our small circle. I guess the point I'm contemplating is that more and more people appear to not be thinking of the reproduction as a reproduction. For them, the screen is the thing and prints are non-sequitur. We haven't changed, but it might be that the public has.

While I appreciate the read and its classification at musing...does it not come back to the same old what is the minimum tool required for your purpose and the fact that a large majority of photographers would also over equip themselves for many likeable reasons. It seems now more relevant than ever based on the likely assumption or fact that (smaller and smaller) screens are the preferred medium rather than print. On this basis even photographers could benefit from using an iphone rather than a dedicated camera for the most common output and only use a camera for the rare shots that will get printed - provided of course that these are known in advance. As a dedicated film/vue camera user making small prints I know that part of the enjoyment is not limited to the outcome but includes the process. This is of course less relevant for digital...
Enjoyed the read nonetheless.
Cheers,
Luc

I guess as all this relates to John Q public, I agree. One doesn't have to look beyond Instagram, Flickr, et al, to appreciate the popularity and consumption of only screen-based images. I much prefer a print! Whether it's the gelatin silver prints of John Sexton or Alan Ross (both of which I have hanging on my walls), the dye transfers of Ctein, platinum/palladium prints, or my own feeble attempts via inkjet printing or digital negative destined for pt/pd printing, I still much prefer a physical print. Guess that's why I prefer physical books vs reading the same book on my iPad or Nexus or why I own several of the folios that you have produced. I'm just sayin...

Funny. I just read a review of Nick Brandt's new book "Across The Ravaged Land." Then, I read this and thought about Nick's earlier books that I own and have enjoyed many an hour of quiet contemplation with. Then, it hit me; the thought of viewing his exquisite images of the animals of Africa via phosphors or LEDs is...well...just wrong!

When a person walks into my home, the first thing a person sees is an Ansel Adams print. After that it is John Sexton, Allan Ross, Rod Dresser, Richard Garrod and Brook Jensen. As you enter the living room I have a space for the new prints I am working on.

It is an extremely rare person that ever even gives these prints a glance. But come in and sit down with a group of people and the iphones come out and are passed around. No one ever notices my work at all. So Brooks thanks for the nudge, I think I will start putting my work on an ipad to pass around, at least it will then get noticed.

I understand your point of view Brooks.
Nevertheless our efforts should be aimed at trying to attract people and show them the beauty of our prints, whether they are hung on a wall, inside of a well printed book (and then try to show how it's healthier to go visiting exhibitions and looking at good books in comparison to browse for ten seconds an iPad and move on). I don't think that it's a war to fight the diffusion capacity of the new media compared to our beloved paper. Times change, as it should be, and people adapt. But I firmly believe that if instead of adapting our tools and our production to new media, we seek to demonstrate the inherent beauty found in our "old" methods of sharing our work, we and our audience will enjoy it.

Preparing the material for one of my lectures, I looked for over two months and downloaded dozens of jpeg from the internet of paintings from the sixteenth century onwards. There are poor quality jpeg, but there are also some large size jpeg showing every hidden detail of the work. But all of these images must be placed inside a keynote 1280x800 (the resolution of my projector). At the same time happened to me to have to consult art books in my possession from time to time and I remained amazed by the quality of reproduction of certain photographs (in most books). All this knowing very well what constitutes the wonderful experience of visiting museums and watching live a pictorial work.
Sure, I could never put on an exhibition with all the paintings that I mentioned during my reading. So we welcome jpegs, keynote and projectors, this is very convenient with regard to the dissemination of knowledge. But I always end my lectures recommending to everyone, to visit as many museums they can and admire these works of art in person.

There's a lot of truth in what you say, the quest for ever higher resolution is getting out of hand and to very little gain to most people. However, I would say that modern day dSLRs do posses some very valuable attributes that iPads and compact cameras do not, such as very wide dynamic range, tonal range and colour depth.

To me as a heavily B&W biased photographer I value these attributes very highly because they allow me to interpret my images with much greater flexibility than a compact camera would.

Still, I take your point, just wait for the inevitable 56MP full frame camera that out resolves all lenses. I'm sure people will still but it and rave about it though.

I acquired a higher-resolution camera and better lenses when my clients started asking for bigger prints than my current equipment could comfortably produce. Perhaps the tail wagging the dog, but if print buyers want to see my work large on their walls, so do I.

Wow, Brooks I love your random thoughts and I have consumed many a bottle of wine discussing this very topic with fellow photographer friends. First, thank you of the compliment on the image, You must really see it large to appreciate. I have a forty inch print on my gallery wall. I printed 5 images large from the last trip to Antarctica and displayed them last Friday for first Friday open house. I am all about the print. Maybe 13 years at Phase One has influenced me a bit when it comes to image quality. Maybe it is years of making large prints in a traditional darkroom that also influences me to shoot with as many pixels as possible. Now I enjoy making images on my Epson printers.

One thing the iPad and the crop of smaller cameras miss is dynamic range. There is no way this image even at .22 mp would look like this if it weren't for the dynamic range and also bit depth of the Nikon and cameras like the Phase One. What I enjoy most about showing big prints is detail (let's call it micro detail) that can never be seen if it were captured with a more portable camera. This is detail you can't see in the viewfinder yet reveals itself on a print. I watch people view large images from a distance and then something captures their eye and they move closer and closer to the print and meanwhile are discovering all sorts of hidden jewels that they are amazed at. I see this time and time again. To see the image above in a large size is a treat. You walk up to the image and discover icicles hanging from the edge of the iceberg. You see texture and nuances that enhance the beauty of the shot all the way into the neighboring icebergs and backround.

Now, let's talk about what the iPad is really good for. Brooks, has certainly been a proponent of this with his extended LensWork magazine. Our portable devices today allow us to consume media and information like never before. On my 128gig iPad I have all the LensWork Magazines as well as many other top books and publications in something that weighs in at a pound. I know my LensWork magazines for the last few years weigh in at around 20 pounds as I just moved them to a shelf in my gallery and the box was pretty heavy. On plane trips or just at home at anytime I can call up past issues and enjoy the images as well as the inspiration that comes with them. I also have hundreds of my images (actually thousands) but hundreds of what I consider big print worthy on my iPad. The iPad allows me to share images and especially images of interest to an audience, efficiently and quickly. It is not uncommon to be asked for images with red or green in it. Pretty easy to find these quickly in a gallery on the iPad. If needed I can make a spec print for a client if they are interested. Or, email them low res images so they can match them up with they plan to use them.

In closing. We are in a grand period of photography. Photography is being considered as artwork now more than ever before. In 70's and 80's photography didn't have the recognition it does today. Everyone is taking pictures. They are sharing images like never before. People love photography and when they see exceptional prints from high end cameras they can tell the difference. And, in the end this is what sets it part as far as the camera that is used and the care and joy in making the print. Brooks, we should talk and maybe do a video on this.

Micro detail ... yes, Kevin, that's the essence of a great train of thought. I remember in college learning about what microscopists call "empty resolution" — when you magnify an image, but don't add any additional detail. Related to pixelization in today's digital camera stuff. That has been one of the defining ideas for my photography. Even when I hold a small print, if I bring it closer to me for a closer look, I want to see more detail, not just the same detail get bigger but fuzzier. This is akin to using our eyes and walking closer to something in real life — we see more, not just bigger. Far too often in galleries, I'll see a print from across the room and it looks great. Then when I get closer, things just soften up; there is nothing more to see as I approach the print. And I'm not talking nose-print viewing, but rather a reasonable 3-4 feet. I should see more. If I don't, it always feels like the print is too large. The limits of just how close one can come is always a bit dicey to define, but I know it when I see it.

I remember once have time to really study an original Ansel Adams 8x10 contact print. By coincidence, I had an Optivisor with me that I was using to view the ground glass on my view camera. I looked at the print from a distance, then walked up and there was more detail. I got as close to the print as my eyes could focus and there was more detail. I flipped on my Optivisor and looked at the print under magnification and there was even MORE detail. I felt as thought I could have fallen into the print and it would be real. It was quite magical and I remember the emotion quite vividly all these years later. Tenaya Creek, Dogwood, Rain. Just magical. Sure, the negative could easily have supported a much larger print because of all the detail contained therein, but it would have lost some of its magic for me if it had approached that empty resolution limit.

This is one of the reasons I like and prefer smaller prints. I'd rather be challenged to look closely and be rewarded, than to move closer and be disappointed.

All of this assumes an aesthetic that values realism over scale, but I guess I simply do. I've often put it this way: It's not the size of the print that matters, but the size of the impact the print makes on our consciousness.

As Kevin points out, this may be the single most persuasive reason to pursue the highest detail cameras possible. It allows scale without loss of that increasing revelation of detail. My approach has been to simply limit my print sizes, but the experience is the same. In either case, we can fall into the print and be rewarded — something that is more difficult with on screen presentations, but explains exactly why we produce our PDFs with higher resolution so viewers can zoom in and see more.

Although JPEGS are the final form for the majority of photographs today, my prints are increasingly purchased by those with wealth and large wall spaces to fill. While this may not be/is not an accurate reflection of the entire market, I'd be shooting myself in the foot if I didn't photograph with adequate resolution.

I believe that the middle-income buyers have vanished from the marketplace and are mostly consuming photography (if at all) in digital form. The wealthy still prefer collectible wall art (thank goodness).